


I Think I'm Dying (Hold Up I'm Invincible)

by otawritesthings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Minor Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Minor Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Protective Tsukishima Kei, Sad Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei Being an Asshole, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, Very Minor, but its okay, look im sorry i can't help it with these babies, set before the spring training week, they fight, you gotta squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24175768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otawritesthings/pseuds/otawritesthings
Summary: Tsukishima is predictable, Yamaguchi finds, except for when he's not and it feels like Yamaguchi's world is falling apart. Enter past confrontations, Hinata Shouyou, and one incriminating piece of paper.(They fight, but it works out okay in the end)
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 301





	I Think I'm Dying (Hold Up I'm Invincible)

**Author's Note:**

> I think it's become a thing for me to ONLY write past 11:30 pm. Should I be concerned? Maybe. That isn't the point. I had a LOT of different ideas for some good TsukkiYama because... I love them? Actually, I wanted to try a hand at IwaOi but I gravitated towards these dorks instead but that's neither here nor there.
> 
> This was fun to write, and I didn't even realize it was long until it was long. I love it, I hope you love it, you know the drill.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (Title is from 'Yes & No' by XYLO)

Yamaguchi found Kei Tsukishima somewhat predictable.

Tsukishima would get up at 7:15 in the morning, every morning without fail. He did it even when Yamaguchi would sleep over -- not that he  _ minded  _ at all. Getting up early was just a part of Tsukki being Tsukki. Yamaguchi accepted that. He would get up at 7:15, clean his glasses before putting them on, get dressed in the same school uniform he wore every day, and then eat a meager breakfast. Tsukishima always liked fruit for breakfast. If the strawberries had gone too bad he would settle for a round of blackberry parfait. Yamaguchi knew when Tsukishima hadn’t had strawberries for breakfast because the blonde would have the same mix between pout and scowl on his face.

Yamaguchi and Tsukki would walk to school together -- meeting in the middle by the park where they used to play -- making the trek in Tsukki’s silence and Yamaguchi’s rambling about something. Tsukki was quiet by nature. He’d always loved music, and preferred the calm of softly strung together words other than the fast and quick noises of everyday chatter. Yamaguchi still talked, though, and sometimes Tsukishima would adjust one cup of his headphones so that one ear poked out from pale blonde hair and entertain Yamaguchi for the small ten minutes that they walked together.

On days with morning practice, Tsukishima would quip about how obnoxious Hinata or Kageyama were, before cracking a grin to himself that told Yamaguchi he didn’t think they were  _ all  _ that bad. Yamaguchi would laugh along and tell Tsukki he was no better, and Tsukki would put his warm, calloused hand on the top of his head and shove him forward, Yamaguchi laughing the entire time. Then, when practice was done, they would trudge up to class 4 and slave away over their college prep classes until it was back to volleyball and Tsukishima was ragging on Hinata again and warding off Nishinoya’s random tackles of affection and rolling his eyes whenever Daichi told him to loosen up. And then, after practice was over, they would walk back home -- Tsukki all brooding and grumpy and complaining about how his fingers were sore and stiff, and Yamaguchi laughing and clicking away at his chosen app of the day.

Kei Tsukishima was predictable.

That’s why it was such a surprise when he didn’t walk with Yamaguchi to practice after school on Monday. He told him he’d catch up, and then walked away before he could protest otherwise. He didn’t think much of it, honestly, deciding to walk with Hinata and Kageyama (or rather, run after them as they chased each other down) instead for once. It was even more of a surprise when Tsukishima  _ wasn’t  _ on time for practice to start, but instead came in ten minutes late, a grocery bag clutched in a fist with red knuckles. His face was set in a hard line and he glared mercilessly at the ground as he shoved the doors to the gym open and marched inside.

He still wore his slacks and button down, tie just slightly loosened, and headphones looped around his neck like always. Yamaguchi instinctively wondered what he was listening to. He jogged over to greet his best friend but paused when Tsukki glared at him, a glacier in a frozen river. 

He threw the bag in his hands on the ground and it hit the floor with a clack of plastic on wood. Tsukki’s hand retracted into a fist at his side. The bag, like a dirty window finally open to the sun, peaked open just enough for Yamaguchi to peer in and see what was inside: a bundle of clothes with the black  _ Karasuno High School Volleyball Club  _ pressed onto the back.

“I quit.” He said, and Yamaguchi didn’t,  _ couldn’t  _ believe it.

“Tsukishima?” Suga asked, stepping forward, but Tsukishima rounded on the third year in an instant. 

“Don’t look at me like some pathetic worm, Sugawara. You heard what I said the first time.” He hissed, golden brown eyes flashing in the artificial light of the gym. Yamaguchi’s mouth fell open.

“Tsukki… you can’t be serious.” he laughed. This was absurd. His mind flickered back to the conversation they’d had back at the training camp when Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi had pissed him off to high heaven with their blunt words and harsh truths. Back then, Tsukishima had claimed he didn’t like volleyball, but then something had  _ changed.  _ Had Yamaguchi been wrong?

Tsukishima looked at him and for a moment his scowl flickered, but he just tsked and tore his focus away, looking at Daichi. “I’m quitting. You can find a new middle blocker for nationals.” He bit out, and then he was stomping out of the gym, leaving the gym a quiet and empty coffin.

Nobody breathed, it seemed.

Yamaguchi certainly didn’t.

Tsukishima… quit?

“What the  _ hell _ ?!” Hinata screeched, hurling the volleyball in his hands towards the ground like it had been the one to wrong him. “He can’t just up and  _ leave  _ like that!”

“Hinata, calm down.” Daichi glared at him, but Hinata fumed even more, orange-amber eyes flashing dangerously. He raised a fist at their captain, but it didn’t seem threatening only… there. It was like Hinata had raised his fists to fight a battle that was never there to begin with.

“No!” The ginger shrieked, jumping forward to be mere centimetres from Daichi’s face, “You’re just gonna let him  _ leave?  _ What kind of captain are you?!”

“ _ ENOUGH!”  _ Daichi roared, and Hinata shrunk back, “Hinata, someday you’ll understand that there are wars you cannot fight. I can’t  _ force  _ Tsukishima to play.”

“But… Shiratorizawa--” Nishinoya murmured, looking at Tanaka with wide blown eyes that looked so lost and made him look so young on his small frame. “I thought he… he  _ wanted to play. _ He played with a dislocated finger!”

Yamaguchi’s eyes dragged themselves to the open door of the gym. It gaped like a hole in the yellow walled gymnasium, like a portal to some other world. Outside, the trees were still bare from winter’s spell and whimpered in the wind. The sidewalk cracks sprouted little buds from the warmer week before, unknowing that soon they would be crushed by boots and the icy frost of spring.

“I’ll be right back.” He muttered more to himself than anything, and then was sprinting through the doorway after his friend. Tsukishima hadn’t gotten far, just to the school gates, and Yamaguchi was able to catch up, though his breath puffed out in front of him and the ice bitten oxygen he inhaled scraped at his lungs and made them burn with every step. His side clenched painfully with a stitch in his muscles and he gasped against the agony but kept running. 

“TSUKKI!” The word escaped his lips in a strangled croak as his feet pounded heavily against the broken concrete sidewalks. The campus was almost empty now, except for various club members milling about. The blonde kept marching forward though, as though he couldn’t hear him. Yamaguchi would have considered it, knowing how Tuskishima liked to play his music loud, but Tsukki  _ wasn’t  _ wearing his headphones, and that fact alone told Yamaguchi that his childhood best friend was ignoring him. The truth hit like a bullet in his stomach, and it churned in anxiety.

“TSUKKI WAIT! PLEASE! STOP!” He cried, and the blonde finally paused, foot mid-step as though frozen in a pond of time. He didn’t turn around to see Yamaguchi skid to a stop as he reached him. He just kept looking forward, hands in his blazer pockets.

“Are you really quitting?” Yamaguchi asked, gasping for breath that didn’t seem to come. 

Tsukishima nodded, and although the answer was silent, it spoke a thousand words.

“...Why?” Yamaguchi wheezed, reaching forward to put a hand on Tsukishima’s back. His fingertips just brushed the fabric of the blazer when Tsukishima wheeled on him, yellow eyes ablaze with fury.

“Get your hands off of me.” He growled, and although he never raised his voice, Yamaguchi felt like he was screaming. 

The first year paused, hand still outstretched in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Tsukishima just glared back at him, and time was frozen if only for a second.

“Why, though, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi choked out again, and Tsukishima turned back around, beginning his solitary march away from the volleyball club again.

“It isn’t worth my time anymore. There’s more important things to focus on. We’re not seven anymore, Yamaguchi. You of all people should know that.”

Yamaguchi’s heart stung at the implication, “What is that supposed to mean?” He accused, sadness giving way to frustration.

“It  _ means _ , Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima spun around on his heel again, “that we’re growing  _ up.  _ Things are changing, and I’m not going to sit around and waste my life on some pathetic club--”

“It isn’t pathetic!” Yamaguchi’s outburst startled even him, but it was like the words were vomiting out of his mouth before he could stop them, “You’re the one who’s pathetic Tsukishima! You’re walking away from a team that you helped build! You’re just being a coward--”

Tsukishima scoffed, jutting a narrow finger at Yamaguchi’s chest, “You want to talk about  _ coward _ ? Yamaguchi from the day I’ve met you, you’ve been nothing more than a scared little kid, so don’t you dare lecture me about  _ cowardice. _ ”

“You don’t mean that.” Yamaguchi shook his head, ignoring the telltale sign of tears as his nose burned all the way up to his eyes, “You don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, Yamaguchi. Grow  _ up.”  _ Tsukishima hissed, every word laced with a poison tip that sunk into Yamaguchi’s heart. “You’re stuck living in some past where we’re playing volleyball together for the rest of our lives. Reality isn’t  _ like  _ that!”

“Who are you to decide what my reality is?” Yamaguchi argued, feeling tears beading at the edge of his eyes, “You  _ aren’t  _ me! You aren’t  _ anyone  _ I know! You aren’t Tsukishima!” His voice cracked and the first searing tear slipped free, “You… you… why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

“Stop being obnoxious for five seconds and you’ll figure it out.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, “I’m done wasting my life on this damn  _ hobby.  _ It never meant anything to me anyway.”

Yamaguchi froze in his place. His mouth opened and closed, and yet nothing could match the way his heart was breaking itself in two. Tsukishima, sensing he wouldn’t answer, pivoted over his shoulder again and walked away from the other boy widening the already impossible gap between the two.

Yamaguchi’s heart wrenched something deep inside of his chest free. A burning, searing, white hot  _ rage  _ that he had never felt before in his life. 

“ _ YOU’RE JUST LIKE THEM!”  _ He screamed, throwing every bit of his vocal chords into the words. Tsukishima paused mid step, hearing his words but hardly acknowledging them, “ _ YOU’RE JUST LIKE ALL THE BOYS FROM ELEMENTARY SCHOOL! YOU DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF!”  _

Tsukishima stiffened, hands curling in and our of fists, knuckles a blinding light in the late afternoon sun. Yamaguchi’s vision hazed and blurred from unshed tears and he scrubbed at them angrily.

Tsukishima walked away, and Yamaguchi’s heart shattered.

He can’t believe he ever thought volleyball was a safe sport.

\---

“Yamaguchi?” Suga’s smooth voice welcomed the first year back to the gym. Everything was still left in the same place it had been when he had left, minus the players which had gathered together in the middle of the gym, almost surrounded by a protective cocoon of strewn about volleyballs.

He wiped at his eyes, knowing he couldn’t hide the evidence of what had happened. With a sigh, he shrugged and massaged the corner of his eye with his wrist. “He’s done with us.” He croaked, then shut his mouth. If he said any more, he felt like the dam would break all over again and the emotions would come rushing out.

“Oh… Yamaguchi.” Yachi whimpered, then sprinted towards him and wrapped him in a bone crushing hug. 

“Are you okay, though?” Asahi asked, stepping forward and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The motion seemed to ground him, and he was thankful to the ace.

“I…” He didn’t know. In one day his world had turned itself on his head. He had lost his best friend in a whirlwind of fire and ice and now he felt so alone even though he was surrounded by his team. “I’ll be alright.” He conceded. He had to be. They were going to nationals in just a few weeks. Tsukishima or not.

\---

Tsukishima was at home for five seconds -- just long enough to shut the front door and slump down on it pathetically -- when he felt the unforgiving press of tears against his eyes. He willed them to stop. That was the  _ right  _ thing to do, wasn’t it? He was right. Yamaguchi was just--

A choked sort of sob clawed its way up his throat and he felt like his windpipe was closing in on itself. He’d never seen Yamaguchi cry like  _ that.  _ Not since they were young and Tsukishima would defend the freckled boy from the onslaught of bullies in elementary school. Yamaguchi -- curse his extremely low pain tolerance and sappy heart -- would always cry at dumb dog movies or when he stubbed his toe on Tsukishima’s bed frame while studying, but never once had Tsukishima seen him cry like  _ that.  _ So full of anguish and anger and hurt.

He hiccuped into his hand, shoving it into his mouth to stifle his cries.  _ He  _ had done that to Yamaguchi. But, at the end of the day he was right. They really didn’t have all the time in the world to be wasting precious hours on volleyball. It was a game. Life was not. Kuroo and Bokuto and Hinata and Kageyama could be caught up in their fantasies and try to rope the rest of the world in but Tsukishima would  _ not  _ be caught up in the lies. He was in highschool to get good grades and go to college for a strong career in business. He was  _ not  _ a pawn in some stupid club activity.

_ You’re just like them. _

Tsukishima’s heart stung as he thought about what Yamaguchi had said. He was  _ not.  _ He couldn’t be. He wasn’t like Yamaguchi’s bullies. No, he  _ fought  _ Yamaguchi’s bullies. He had to protect his friend from those cruel words.

_ And yet, you did the same. _

He didn’t. He didn’t do that to Yamaguchi. He was in the right. He was waking him  _ up.  _ He was protecting Yamaguchi from inevitable failure and heartbreak and disappointment. He was  _ not  _ a bully. He did not  _ bully  _ Yamaguchi.

And still, the twisted part of his mind lit a match and burned every inch of his blood, reminding him that Yamaguchi was  _ right. _

With a scream of defiance he threw his book bag across the living room, and then regretted it when he knocked over a vase of flowers and water spilled all over the carpet. He couldn’t seem to keep anything intact today.

\---

Hinata showed up to practice with a black eye on Tuesday. He definitely hadn’t had it at morning practice, and the ginger claimed it was an accident involving the corner of a textbook and a shoelace. No one really seemed to buy it, since the corner of a textbook was far smaller than the purpling bruise that ran from his eyebrow down to his cheekbone.

Tanaka had rounded on Kageyama first, wanting to know if the setter had fought with Hinata again, but that only made the situation worse because Kageyama blew up on Tanaka in the loudest voice Yamaguchi had ever heard the setter used. He ranted and raved and said he would  _ never  _ in a million years hurt a teammate like that. His hands squeezed the volleyball in his hands hard enough to pop, and he glared at Tanaka with a fire so unlike his setters’ will. The second year had conceded with a nod and a grunt, and that was how practice started.

Why did all the practices seem to involve yelling these days?

Hinata played fine, even with a swelling eye socket he was able to jump as high as ever and he and Kageyama worked on improving their quick. No one mentioned the black eye, but Yamaguchi watched when Hinata winced after smiling too hard or rubbing his eye without thought. But, Hinata didn’t mention it, and so Yamaguchi worked on his jump floater with Nishinoya.

His mind wandered as he retrieved a ball ricocheting off the wall when Hinata spiked too hard and it flew at an off angle out of bounds. Tsukishima had been in class today, but wouldn’t even look in Yamaguchi’s direction. Instead, the bespectacled boy slumped in his seat and remained as stoic as ever as he took his notes. When lunch time came, he left the room quickly and quietly, leaving Yamaguchi to seek out Hinata and Kageyama during lunch. Come to think of it, Hinata hadn’t had the black eye then, so Yamaguchi wondered when  _ exactly  _ he had gotten it.

His next jump floater curved off out of bounds as he struggled to reign in his thoughts. Tsukishima was just as much a stranger to him as he was before they had met. He just had to… accept it. 

That didn’t make it any easier. 

Hinata came to morning practice with a split lip and his black eye a deep purple with green edges. He still grinned like a champion though, only wincing slightly when his lip pulled at his cut too hard, and his smile dimmed to accommodate the bloody, swollen mess.

“Hinata, I want you to be honest with me.” Daichi leveled with the boy, the rest of the team watching with bated breath. “Did someone hit you?”

“Huh? No way!” Hinata waved his hands frantically in reassurance. “I swear I just tripped and fell on the way here! I think I need to get new shoelaces, these ones are unraveling--”

“Dumbass, you  _ never  _ trip this much.” Tanaka tsked, inspecting Hinata’s new injury with his thumb as Kiyoko brought over the first aid kit. “Either you’re about as coordinated as Takeda-sensei when he’s piss drunk, or your a liar.”

“I’m not a liar!” Hinata shrieked, brown eyes blown wide. He hissed when Kiyoko pressed an antiseptic wipe against his face and shrieked like a dying cat. “I swear!”

Yamaguchi scrutinized the boy. He  _ knew  _ what hurt looked like. He had felt it enough in his childhood before Tsukki-- before Tsukishima had stepped in for him. He knew what it looked like to be beaten down

“Hinata… are you being bullied?”

Hinata didn’t answer right away, and Yamaguchi knew it wasn’t for lack of one. Hinata seemed to freeze under Yamaguchi’s question, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, body entirely still. The look was so out of place on Hinata that the whole team seemed to mirror him in utter shock.

_ I knew it. What the hell? _

“What the  _ fuck,  _ dumbass?” Kageyama breathed fire out of his mouth, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Is that where the black eye came from?”

“It… It was just these two times! I think it’s done now,  _ honestly.”  _ Hinata tried to cower, ducking in on himself. 

“Hinata…” Suga’s voice was eerily calm, but he held himself with a stiff neck and shaking arms, “Who’s been hitting you?”

“I-- It’s not--”

“You have to tell someone these things!” Daichi cut in, pushing past everyone until he was face to face with the blocker, eyes shining violently. “What the hell were you thinking!”

“I was going to tell you--!”

“WHEN?!” Daichi roared, throwing a hand up in the air emphasis. Hinata flinched at the gesture and the captain faltered, if only for a second. “When were you going to tell us? How long has this been going on?”

“N-Not long I swear!” Hinata shrieked, looking around for someone to aid him. The team seemed stunned into silence. “It’s only been a week or so--”

“A  _ week? _ ” Nishinoya breathed, running his hands through his hair furiously. “Who is it? I’m gonna kill em I swear--”

“Noya, no.” Asahi shook his head at the libero but the second year only seemed more angry at that, suddenly wheeling on Yamaguchi. 

“And  _ you! _ ” Yamaguchi was gripped with the same feeling as he had been only days before when he fought with Tsukishima. He felt targeted and betrayed. “How did  _ you  _ know? Have you known this was happening? Were you hiding it--”

“Noya!” Tanaka shot down his teammate with an angry tone. “Yamaguchi didn’t mean anything by it. This isn’t his fault, don’t take it out on him.”

“You  _ knew  _ though!” Noya repeated, a different kind of venom lacing his words, “Yamaguchi… are you… are you--”

Yamaguchi caught onto the implication of the words and felt his face flush. Suddenly everything was too much. “NO!” He shrieked, a little louder than intended, and tries to backtrack to an apology, “I didn’t-- not anymore-- Tsukishima--”

“ _ Tsukishima bullied you? _ ” Tanaka breathed and then the room went to shit.

Yamaguchi remembered all too well the last conversation he and Tsukki had had. And  _ no,  _ it hadn’t been on good terms, but Tsukishima would  _ never  _ bully anyone. There was an almost unspoken vow inscribed on the blonde’s heart. Yamaguchi’s mouth was moving on its own, trying to defend his best friend and Noya was screaming bloody murder about… well, murder, and Asahi was doing his best to hold him back. Hinata was still being bandaged by Kiyoko but he was talking rapidly to her as she put a bandage on his lip. Kageyama was screaming at Hinata which caused Tanaka to yell back at the first year.

The boys volleyball club of Karasuno was chaotic, but it wasn’t…  _ this. _

“ _STOP IT!”_ Suga screamed, his normally smooth and clear voice cracking at the ends. His eyes screwed shut and his shoulders were tensed up by his ears. His whole body shook and Yamaguchi found all words dying on his throat at the third year’s anger. “Just… stop.” The silver haired boy whispered, his body slumping forward like the action had taken something out of him.

“Let’s put away the volleyballs and just… talk.” Ennoshita suggested, looking very uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Kageyama threw his ball into the cart with a little more force than necessary, but eventually the gym was clear of clutter.

Yamaguchi noted that while it seemed empty, the unspoken tension of the room suffocated like a dense smog.

“Alright.” Daichi cleared his throat, clapping his hands together in front of him. “Yamaguchi… you go first. You were in the middle of saying something earlier--”

He was? Oh right, he was, before the world opened up and rained hell down upon his already miserable week. Yamaguchi felt like  _ shit  _ these days, honestly.

“Oh uh… yeah.” He mumbled, scratching at his cheek at where he knew a particularly large freckle was. He used to scratch at it in elementary school, hoping if he rubbed it for long enough, it would fade away like a stain. Tsukishima had stopped that hobby early on after Yamaguchi had cut himself with his fingernail. “I was gonna say, actually, that I used to get bullied a lot in elementary and middle school…” he waved his hands and let out a loose, dry chuckle to try to distract from the thick tension of the room, “ya know, freckles and stuff,”

“I like your freckles though!” Noya whined, and a real smile replaced Yamaguchi’s awkward one.

“Thanks… uh, anyway, I’ve known Tsukki...shima,” saying Tsukki now felt so wrong, “Tsukishima would stand up for me all the time. He never actually bullied me.”

“Oh.” Tanaka mumbled, “my bad for that one.”

“No, no!” Yamaguchi waved his hands to dismiss the apology, “It’s alright! I know we’re all kinda high strung right now--”

“No, shit.” Kageyama mumbled, then frowned when Noya snickered at his horrible dryness.

“Anyway… that’s how I figured Hinata…” he made eye contact with the other first year across the circle, and let his sentence hang there.

“...yeah.” Hinata mumbled. Yamaguchi watched with bated breath as Hinata pressed tightly clenched fists into his thighs, “There’s these guys in my class that have been… getting onto me for a bit now.” Daichi sniffed, and anyone could tell it wasn’t just an innocent move. Suga put a hand on the captain’s knee, a silent command to calm down.

“Anyway,” Hinata cleared his throat, and focused on the gym floor, “they at first just teased me about my height and stuff. Normal things -- I get it all the time, yea? But then… they saw me talking to Kiyoko and Yachi after school and got a bit… jealous?” He winced and his voice climbed up an octave, “They were really mad honestly that I seemed to have better luck with girls than they did, and I  _ told  _ them that I wasn’t dating either of them, but they thought I was lying I guess, because one of them punched me.”

“Fucker.” Tanaka murmured and Kinoshita whacked the back of his head.

“And then uh… yesterday after school they warned me about telling anyone, actually,” he smiled sheepishly and glanced at Daichi, who stared impassively (read: furiously) back, “And I think they thought I told you guys because this morning they cornered me and that’s where I got this.” He gestured lamely to the bandaged cut on his lip. 

“Hinata… you should tell someone.” Asahi’s gaze was soft but firm as it landed on Hinata. The young spiker looked back up at him and shook his head.

“I don’t think it’ll help, honestly. Teachers never really care about that sort of thing and it’s my word against theirs--”

“Tell Takeda-sensei at least.” Ennoshita pointed out, the voice of reason in the troubled room. “He would believe you. I  _ know  _ he would.”

“I just… I don’t want to make it worse.” Hinata sighed, massaging the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“You won’t. It can’t hurt.” Asahi shook his head, “You can talk to him at afternoon practice… yeah?”

“Yeah.” Hinata nodded, then looked up more firmly, “I will!”

Yamaguchi smiled, feeling a weight lift off his chest. At least one of his problems was solved. Involuntarily, his mind wandered back to Tsukishima, and he scrunched his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to think about it. One thing at a time.

\---

Hinata, it seemed, would not last long enough through the day to uphold his promise from the morning’s practice. Lunchtime found Yamaguchi sitting with Hinata and Kageyama again. Everything was going… well. All worried and stress from the morning were lost to the other two first years’ banter and bickering, and Yamaguchi was more than alright with watching them, desperate for any sort of normality. 

Kageyama eventually stalked off muttering about getting some milk from the vending machine, and then Yamaguchi and Hinata were all alone. Yamaguchi chewed his bento quietly and Hinata kicked a soccer ball between his feet. 

“So… what happened between you and Tsukishima?” Hinata finally asked, and Yamaguchi’s eyes shot into his hairline.

“W-What do you mean?” He stammered, reaching for his water bottle. His throat felt suddenly and painfully dry. 

“Well… you know, the other day he quit and then you ran after him and now you two  _ don’t  _ talk.” Hinata shrugged, “Normally you eat lunch with him, right?”

Yamaguchi swallowed slowly, “Yeah. We just… we had a fight I guess. We said some pretty hurtful things but… I don’t know… I’m not sure where his head is at right now.”

“Maybe you should just ask him,” Hinata shrugged, rolling the volleyball onto his foot and kicking it up in the air to catch it.

Yamaguchi almost choked on his water, “A-Ask hi--”

“ _ Oy!  _ Pipsqueak!”

“Oh, shit.” Hinata mumbled under his breath. Yamaguchi looked to where amber-brown eyes were focused and found three punk looking pretty boys stalking towards them with devious grins.

“Awwh, did your little girlfriends leave you now that you’re an ugly son of a?” One of them crooned, blonde hair flapping over his eyes in that way that pretty boy hair always seemed to do. “Looks like you’ve stooped low now on the ugly chain, if you’re eating lunch with this freckled freak.”

Yamaguchi’s blood chilled in his veins. Some part of him ached at the taunt, but the other part of him seared with anger at these  _ pathetic  _ goons. Hinata seemed frozen, glancing back and forth between the boys and Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi wasn’t sure… what to do. He wanted to scream, run at the guys, hit them or  _ something.  _ Tsukki always was able to just intimidate them by being… Tsukki but Yamaguchi wasn’t Tsukishima. He was…

_ A coward. _

_ No. _

Yamaguchi wasn’t a  _ coward.  _ With shaky knees he rose to his feet and glared at the boy. Now that he thought about it, he was  _ definitely  _ taller than his piece of absolute garbage. The boost to his ego drove his step forward.

“Get lost.” 

The words were a  _ lot  _ shakier than he wanted, but he stilled his shaking limbs and tried to imagine Daichi or Asahi or Tsukishima standing in his place.

“What did you say to me you  _ rat? _ ” The boy sneered, taking a step forward, eyes narrowing to slits.

“I said…  _ get lost. _ ” Yamaguchi growled, surprising even himself with the hostility in his words.

The boy moved faster than Yamaguchi had anticipated, hand grabbing the fabric of his shirt under his tie and twisting it in his fist. He pulled Yamaguchi mere centimetres away from his face, and Yamaguchi could smell his  _ obnoxious  _ minty breath. Did the guy take a mint  _ just  _ to come beat up Hinata?

“You little fucker. You’re just askin’ for it.” Pretty Boy snarled, spit flying through his perfectly straight clenched teeth and splattering on Yamaguchi’s face. “I’m gonna slap those freckles off your damn face.” He growled, and raised a menacing hand. If Yamaguchi was brave before, he was  _ terrified  _ now, watching that hand swing down towards his face. He screwed his eyes shut, waiting for the telltale burn of hand on skin but instead was met only with the solid ground as the boy dropped him. There was a grunt and a shout of  _ ‘Tsukishima!’  _ from Hinata, and that’s when Yamaguchi opened his eyes.

Tsukishima, in all his six-foot-two glory was scowling down at Pretty Boy, hand clutched around his offending wrist and murder in his eyes.

“I suggest you shut the hell up and leave.” Tsukishima snarled, releasing Pretty Boy’s wrist with a flick of his long fingers. The boy and his gang  _ squeaked,  _ which Yamaguchi would have laughed at if he weren’t trying to calm his rapidly racing heart, and fled from the scene like scared animals with their tails between their legs.

“Hinata! Yamaguchi! … Tsukishima?” Kageyama jogged up to the trio, milk carton in hand. For a moment, no one moved a muscle.

“Kageyama… maybe we should go tell Takeda-sensei now.”

“As if I’d go anywhere with you.” Kageyama rolled his eyes, but followed along after the ginger anyway, sucking on his milk carton.

That left Yamaguchi and Tsukishima alone.

“Uh… thank you.” Yamaguchi cleared his throat and picked himself up off the ground. “That… was nice. You didn’t have to--”

“Shut up.” Tsukishima hissed, golden eyes finding Yamaguchi’s, and the smaller first year couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. Tsukishima opened his mouth and then closed it before looking away and shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi stumbled over his words, but it was enough to get his friend to look back at him. In all, it was funny that Yamaguchi never stopped considering Tsukki his friend. He didn’t know if he ever could. 

He thought back to what Hinata said:  _ just ask him. _

“What’s happening?” He asked in more of a whisper than anything. Tsukishima held eye contact with him for a long second, before dropping his gaze to the ground with a sigh.

“I’m sorry.” The blonde murmured, eyes trained firmly on the ground, “I… shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

Yamaguchi’s heart swelled just a tad, but he still couldn’t help but feel that there was something deeper there.

“Why did you quit?” He asked, the burning question everyone had been dying to know.

Tsukishima hesitated and then shrugged, “I meant what I said -- about volleyball at least. It’s a distraction. It’s pointless.”

“Tsukishima it’s…” Yamaguchi didn’t know what to say, “You didn’t think that after the training camp with Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi,” He reasoned, “And you didn’t think that after we beat Shiratorizawa.”

“Things change.” Was Tsukki’s curt response, and Yamaguchi’s temper began to flare.

“Overnight?!” He threw his hands up exasperatedly, “You said to me that you loved playing volleyball! Was that a lie?”

“No.” Tsukishima shook his head. Maybe early on, Yamaguchi would have accepted that, but now he couldn’t.

“Then why are you abandoning us? Why did you say those things to the team -- to Suga and me? Why would you just  _ leave? _ ”

“There are more important things in life. It’s time to move on--”

“Oh yeah,  _ please,  _ move on right before nationals?” There was the word vomit again. Yamaguchi was  _ angry.  _ He had never felt this upset in his entire life, but Tsukki was  _ there.  _ Right  _ there  _ and yet he felt so out of reach. Why couldn’t Yamaguchi reach him? Why was their friendship suddenly torn apart so wide Yamaguchi found himself stretched so thin and far he would fall any second?

“You just don’t  _ get it. _ ” Tsukishima sighed, but there was no malice in his words. He seemed truly… exhausted. “I can’t devote my life to that. It won’t get me anywhere.”

“If you love it why wouldn’t it get you somewhere?” Yamaguchi argued. Tsukishima’s hands began to shake, and suddenly Yamaguchi regretted this entire conversation.

“Because I can’t!” Tsukishima snapped, “I have to have a  _ future _ ! I can’t wait around here for an invitation by losing focus! I’m suffering enough already--”

“Suffering?” Yamaguchi faltered, but Tsukishima was ripping his own backpack open and taking out a crumpled piece of paper. He threw it at Yamaguchi’s feet. 

It was a test, marked to high heaven in red ink.,  _ 34%  _ scrawled at the top.

Tsukishima had failed his first test.

Somehow, that made Yamaguchi laugh. It was so… so… sudden that it felt surreal.

“You quit because you failed  _ one  _ test?” Yamaguchi laughed, looking up at Tsukishima who just glared back at him.

“It’s not funny. Volleyball is a distraction and my grades--”

“It’s  _ one  _ grade Tsukishima! I bet it didn’t even touch your average--”

“One point. My grade went down one point.”

“ _ Tsukki _ !” Yamaguchi was  _ relieved.  _ Tsukishima was just… stressed over a test.  _ That  _ he could fix. “It’s one point!”

“It could become more!”

“It won’t.” Yamaguchi laughed, walking closer to Tsukishima and handing him the paper. “You’re Tsukishima! You won’t let one test get you down. Besides, you’ve been managing fine until now. One test won’t hurt in the long run.”

Tsukishima was quiet, but Yamaguchi saw a blush crawl up his neck. He grinned.

“While I’m still mad at you just a  _ little  _ bit--”

“I said I was sorry.”

“ _ Anyway,  _ the point I make is,” Yamaguchi dropped his voice to be serious in the matter, “You love volleyball, right?”

Tsukishima nodded silently.

“Then don’t give it up.” Yamaguchi instructed, smiling brighter than he had in days, “Use it as a reason to keep going. This is  _ one  _ moment. Don’t let it stop here.”

Tsukishima paused, then, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Yamaguchi responded, and he  _ meant it.  _ His heart began to stitch itself back together, “Now, you need to go apologize to the team and ask for your jersey back.”

“I can’t just do that.” Tsukishima protested, but Yamaguchi shook his head.

“Why not?” Yamaguchi shrugged. He knew Daichi would tear the first year a new one, yeah, but in the end he was one of their best blockers. Tsukishima didn’t have an answer. “Perfect! You better be at practice today!”

“Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima’s deep voice was more serious than Yamaguchi had anticipated, and the pinch server paused.

“Yeah?”

“I really am sorry.” He murmured. Yamaguchi believed him. “I don’t… I don’t want to be  _ them. _ ” He grumbled, running a hand through his blonde hair.

“I’m sorry too.” Yamaguchi flushed, “I… shouldn’t have said that.”

“I needed it.” Tsukishima sighed then laughed bitterly, “God I’m pathetic.”

“Nah, you’re just Tsukki.” Yamaguchi shook his head, “You’re not perfect.”

The bell for lunch rang, signalling the transition back to class, and Yamaguchi moved to head back off to class, but a warm, calloused hand grabbed his wrist. He turned to Tsukki, raising his eyebrows to question the blonde, but Tsukishima just looked away. Then, there was the slightest of tugs on his arm and Yamaguchi was being pulled forward into Tsukki’s chest.

“Don’t get involved with bullies anymore.” Tsukishima grumbled, and it was so…  _ Tsukishima  _ that Yamaguchi couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like a lot of things. You don’t like Hinata or Kageyama--”

“Damn straight.”

Yamaguchi laughed into his best friend’s chest, feeling warmer and lighter than he had in days, “Let’s go to class. I want to check in on Hinata and make sure he and Kageyama actually went and talked to Takeda-sensei without killing each other.”

“Why were they talking to Takeda-sensei?”

“I’ll fill you in.” Yamaguchi laughed, and the two of them fell into step again, just like it always had been -- Yamaguchi chattering to Tsukishima and the blonde passively listening. Their hands brushed as they neared the building and Yamaguchi found his pinky finger looping with Tsukishima’s. Maybe it was the adrenaline from his confrontation acting, but he found himself twisting them together as they walked.

He expected Tsukishima to pull away, mumble about Yamaguchi being clingy and pathetic, but the blonde didn’t. Instead, he adjusted his hand so their pinkies slotted together more and held steadfastly together. 

“I kinda missed you, Tsukki. It was lonely without your insults.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up.”

Things would be alright. Tsukishima was back on the team, they were going to nationals together, and they were still best friends. Yamaguchi guessed that maybe that was the other predictable thing about Tsukishima. 

They always gravitated back together.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively --  
> Kenma: Tsukishima fucked it up with Yamaguchi again  
> Kuroo: damn


End file.
